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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 12:08 am
(( Quickening the time lapse after the match with Omi to current time. xP ))
The grueling duel between the master of flames, Omi, and the caster of ice, Snow, has left most of the arena charred and frosted over. Though the arena was quickly repaired after that thunderous plight, even small areas within held some bruises left by the previous death-spar, so to speak.
After having to administer the wounds left by his 'awakening', the Alter Ego which resides within the body of Snow was still nonetheless fresh and capable of disturbing his mindset once more, wreaking havoc if he couldn't keep his mental guard in check. And losing it during the match with Omi was a dire mistake --
Even Snow couldn't stop himself from turning into a calculative bloodluster by then, his life already shortening even further from this...this...
Curse.
The words of Omi Barsait still rang quite fresh in Snow's mind, even after weeks had passed for his own recoveries. Thanks to the spar, his cloak and cloth were bathed in his own blood from the wounds, and a nasty looking scar could be seen under the dim lighting on Snow's back - befalling another story, another side...
Another life, another past.
It was around the time that he escaped from Infirmary that Snow went back to the arena, still dissatisfied with the very question he's been seeking - to again avoid the reaches of death that could kill him at any time. With his irregularity and unstable blood, Death was always following him, lurking at the nearest shadows, the nearest night to strike and take his soul away. Is there a cure for such a curse, or does Snow must admit and accept death, regardless? There's still so many things to do; his life, his goal, his objective to seek something which will never return again...
But alas, this is his unfortunate fate.
Already in a foul mood, Snow was in the arena's central grounds, standing right in the middle of the last battle which still showed some scars left. Not expecting anyone to come - as the arena barely sees any action - he had his cloth removed, flexing his lithe body under the loose pants he wore while he tried to see just how far his recovery had progressed.
"...A good day..." He muttered, sensing the cold front which covered the ground above. In such coldness, he could at least use the cold to kill his senses, and calm himself from aggressive behavior. With the heavy thunderstorm tearing across the ground as he speaks, Snow could not help but love the moment of fury - the absolute silence which comes before the calm of the storm.
For he, the deliverance of the Reaper's cold touch, lives truly against his will.
The steps were heard. Another opponent has arrived.
Snow turned around, looking slowly at the man which came to interrupt the calm. The stench of blood which reeked from the opponent foretold Snow that this battle...this fight, of any sorts, will not be an easy one. But that blood...
That beautiful, deadly blood...
The Alter Ego began to stir again, and Snow quickly held himself back in check. His blades, though sheathed, slowly skidded against the ground as he faced Trei , the red pupil of his eyes staring steadily at him.
"....."
He listened to the plea in which this man has gasped through the vomiting.
".....There is no stop, but to the embrace of your own misfortune. There is no end, for no beginning had began. Live and let live, the weaving tendrils of death awaits."
He slowly went to a side stance, his left facing Trei while he tucked his blades into the clasp near his pants. His right blade was still held in his grip, but no effort is seen to tuck that blade to his sides as well.
"Shall death be the outcome of this match, or will it be thwarted again, like a darting snowflake...?"
He lowered his body a bit.
"Come. Surely you've came to this arena for the sole reason of seeing Death, do you not?"
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 6:50 am
Trei's eyes languidly roll upward to take in this new voice, too weary to start or really be much surprised at all. This man, too, wears clothes that are spattered in blood; his own or someone elses, Trei can't be sure.
"Ble...Oof." Another dry heave, but Trei forces himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily on shaken legs. Ensanguined blue eyes stare into the newcomer's own, burning with remnants of life despite the fact that the young man seems to be on Death's door. There is silence... and then, the young man's mouth cracks into a rakish grin, revealing teeth scarred by remnants of the blood that just forced itself from his body. "You... really are a mood ki-hic-Kill, ya?"
Just what mood he's killing, one wouldn't know; Trei's never been much for masochism, so its not like he's getting a thrill out of being in mental agony. But then again, when one is faced with death, sometimes it helps to laugh a little...
Unlike the nameless figure that has taken the liberty of issuing silent challenge, Trei puts up no guard, takes no defensive stance... he simply continues to sway, his eyes boring into his opponent's chest from five yards away.
"Seeing death, huh? -hic- Well, I've met him once before... had a nice close visit. Told him that it wasn't anything permanent, though... think maybe thats why I'm like this? Death's mad because there wasn't a "morning after' call?"
A laugh, mirthless and cold, slips past the young man's lips, coupled by a thin stream of blood. He's definitely seen better days.
But at this point, he no longer cares. All that he wants is a release...
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 3:07 pm
It is not custom for Snow to attack a man who cannot defend himself. But he, alas in a foul mood already, unsheathes his katana and points the tip at Trei, a five yards or so away. If the man wishes to confirm whether Death is mad at him or not...
Snow shall gladly let his blade taste blood once more.
"We shall see. After all..."
In a sweeping motion, Snow brought the poised blade down and then up, creating momentum for his blade to swing at the seemingly defenseless fighter.
"...We're both fated in our curse." He finished his sentence, closing the distance with a front dash as he brought the left blade down, right towards Trei's face in a --
Surprisingly, slow speed, as if being on high alert for some strange reason.
His scabbard was still held in his right, and the weapon which dangled on his left has not been touched for now.
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 9:35 pm
What would have happened had Trei's assailant not greatly telegraphed his move, I can not say; perhaps fight instinct would have overrun flight, or maybe Trei would have been frozen in shock. However, as it is, even the mentally enfeebled young man can see the danger looming, literally, in front of his face.
As the blade bears down, Trei's eyes flare into life, revealing a mix of dark ire and bizarre relief. Its almost as if he's going to thank Snow for the briefest of moments...
Until, that is, he shoots in, ducking into and below the falling sword in a classic Folk-style grapple; should he catch his opponent, he will drive his shoulder into the man's stomach and chop at the man's knees, driving him from his feet, into the air, and then finally into a rather rough landing where the back of his head will be introduced with the stoney floor. For someone whose movements were as unsteady as Trei's, the move is surprisingly quick; his own shot takes less than a second, and Snow's forward motion will likely aid in his being taken down.
If he IS, Trei won't waste too much time... he'll immediately step back from the fallen fighter, resuming his weaving, staggering "stance" rather than attempting to continue with his grapple....
"Curse, huh? And how, might I ask, are you cursed..."
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 7:11 am
(( Okay.... lemme try this again, to see if I get the move correct... ))
Hardly expecting any opponents who would actually use wrestling moves to fight, Snow was, honestly, unprepared for this counter, especially from a man who so wishes to see death a few seconds ago.
The move would've worked against Snow had he continued on his course with the given trajectory.
But.
There was a reason why he had taken the action slowly in the first place.
His body was roughly jolted up when Trei attacked him on the legs, causing him to lose balance for that brief second. But having kept his motion surprisingly slow - as mentioned in the post before - Snow was able to keep most of his momentum in check, his blade now being yanked backward to align parallel to his legs in one sudden motion. The scabbard on his right, though, was a different story. At once when Trei attacked his legs, he brought the scabbard he held viciously from the right side to Trei's exposed area - the head. That way, the motion he used on his left torso would be transferred to his right, adding force behind the strike that is enough to give a headache....depending on where the head is struck, of course.
Snow may be surprised, but that doesn't mean he won't strike back.
Depending if the strike with his right scabbard worked or not on Trei's head - hopefully enough to strike him dizzy and painful - Snow could only see if the attack worked or not --
And if his eventual demise is to collapse first into the ground, at least the blade is positioned well enough to --
Well, that depends on whether the strike worked, no?
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 8:46 am
A sickening, cracking ~thud~ fills the air as the blade's handle collides just behind Trei's temple, breaking the young man's "skin" and causing more blood to seep down the side of his face... and still he doesn't stop, using his positioning and the switch in momentum to viciously whip the man into the ground and dancing away to the right to avoid any possible counters.
"Curse, huh? And how, might I ask, are you cursed..."
Trei smiles bitterly, blood leaking from the right side of his head, obscured to him by his dead right eye. He could hear the thunk, though, and knows that he took a nasty hit... but at this point, he no longer cares.
"F*ck you and your curse..."
The faint rumble of thunder above whispers through the arena, highlighting the overall graveyard atmosphere of the fighters' surroundings. Its a morbid scene; one man, healed but covered in the blood of others, one soaked in his own blood. To a bystander, the air would feel chill, and dank... but to Trei, it is a vacuum, void of all sensation except that which was born within his mind.
No clenching of fists, no raising of a guard... however, a faint spiderwebbing of dark red can be seen forming on his right hand, and this coupled with Trei's baleful glare seems to argue against the theory that Trei is blindly seeking death...
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 7:54 pm
What a surprise. Impervious to attacks to lethal areas?
Finding his body on the ground in some painful format, Snow looked up at the languid ceiling above him in curiosity, as the pain began to seep into his skin and head. The move was worth commending, but taking him by surprise will only work once. Snow shall not be decieved the next time.
He slowly got up, the ground around his body beginning to crack and show signs of rupture - especially from the grasses nearby. With the air lowering itself in temperature, Snow didn't need to tell his opponent what he was about to do.
If the opponent wishes for a fight with no holding back, then so be it.
Snow shall gladly subside to that need for the brawl.
Lowering his blade again, Snow sheathed his weapon back into his scabbard, still coated with a bit of blood from the jab to Trei's temple a moment before. Now switching the hold to his left side, he took on a lower side stance, his hands now holding the hilt of his blade in a battle ready quick strike.
"Flattered." He muttered, moisture beginning to show on his body and - especially, the weapons themselves.
It's a pity that he had left his cloth nearby, not wearing the armor which would put him in a suitable situation for this fight. But alas -
His puils glowed red as it stared back at the man who shall be waltzing with Death soon.
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 11:47 pm
Again; if Trei could feel, he would've been able to take the sudden shift in temperature as a warning. As it is, though, the young man merely flashes his opponent another morbid grin, devoid of all fear or anger or, really, emotion in general...
Similar to Snow, Trei's enfeebled mind has come to the conclusion that a double-legged takedown probably won't work a second time; judging from the man's newly adopted stance, a charge would be a one way ticket to decapitation or some similar unpleasantness. Unfortunately, the young man's sleep deprived mental faculties can't focus past that... thoughts scatter, and dark images invade his minds eye.
"..."
As the skeletons force their way out of the young man's proverbial closet, its all he can do to watch the sword-wielding man in front of him, much less try to set up a counterattack. Unlike the demons of the real world, these macabre visions are inescapable; he can't cut them down, he can't flee. All he can do is push forward, through the darkness, and hope that his mind doesn't shatter before he makes it through. But its not fair, its not fair, its NOT FAIR! All he wants is
"release..."
As he says this, the spiderweb cracks on his right hand spread more, and reddish-black blood begins to ooze out from the "cuts," welling out across the back of his hand like some sick rendition of Michael Jackson's glove... in the shifting light, Snow might see the first hint of what look like talon's forming on Trei's right fore and middle fingers; however, at this point in time, the darkness makes it hard to tell.
All they can do is collide, and see how things unfold...
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Posted: Fri Apr 13, 2007 2:29 am
It isn't hard for him to smell the delicious scent of blood, but Snow has no need to sedate his thirst for blood. He's not in his Blood Riot, and his Alter Ego hasn't been awoken from the scent of blood yet. If he was to fight, he'll have to attack with rough blows to halt his Alter Ego before it is awakened from the drive - the very need for blood itself.
The spiderweb cracks on Trei's hands made Snow deem the situation uncertain, though, on whether to lash out or hold his stance. Having fought some who use their bloods as catalysts for devestating moves before, Snow wondered if Trei is part of the same category, using their own blood as fuel for magic and/or abilities?
The last time he fought one, the opponent's blood was poisonous and acidic, able to melt off almost anything that came into contact with it, other than the user itself. He didn't survive that match, and it took months just to recover from the poisoning he'd suffered from the fight.
So, to take things drastically before Trei can amp up his abilities --
Snow went in for the kill.
Bending his knees suddenly, Snow used that bending to build up his momentum before he sprung off right after Trei. Knowing that close range combat might - in fact - prove to him in a disadvantage, his blade was continuously held aloft, parallel to the ground while he charged right at Trei.
Forget if Trei intentionally set a trap for Snow to bite; If something is amiss, then Snow shall attack before it could be executed and pressure Trei into a corner, if all possible.
As soon as he got close enough to Trei - less than a yard or so, Snow dipped his body low a bit before bringing the hilt of his blade to strike at Trei's liver, the blade unsheathing itself right out of his scabbard and making up the distance with the force applied behind it. If by any chance Trei dodges left or right, Snow'll have something prepared for that.
The only thing that he'll be concerned with is the blood bleeding off of Trei's hands, and then --
If Trei does push himself closer, which will force Snow to adopt a different tactic to use in such an event.
But for now, Snow'll keep things plain and simple, so to keep himself at a defensive ready at the most unexpected moments if need to be.
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Posted: Fri Apr 13, 2007 6:51 pm
Trei snickers maniacally at Snow's charge, stepping forward rather than attempting to dodge the incoming strike. In fact, he does the exact opposite:
As they come closer, he shifts so that the right side of his body staggers just a bit behind his left.
As Snow swings the blade, Trei twists his left arm around so that his palm lines up with the incoming blade.
Another sickening sound fills the air as the sword's hilt lodges itself in the center of the young man's palm, birthing a new spiderweb in the center of Trei's palm while at the same time the young man's taloned right hand lashes forward towards his opponent's throat, the blood-claws lengthening from less than an inch to 2 inches long as he goes in for his deadly counter-attack. All the while as he does so, the spiderwebbing of cracks on the back of his hands continues to spread outward, causing more ichor to run down the back of the young fighter's hand and wrist.
Things are gonna get messy...
((Sorry. Pressed for time, couldn't do alot of story and prettiness.))
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Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 11:46 am
Dashing, but fatal. Considering the fact that Snow has his blade held on his left side, instead of the usual right, for Trei it would mean a slight delay for his Talons to strike Snow's throat.
And Snow wasn't intent on just finishing the blow with just a hilt strike -- nay, it has to be something far more sinister, and bloody painful for the opponent to fear and cower away from.
So just as the hilt struck the man's palm at full force, Snow lurched his arm upward and his wrist to the right to bring the blade in a revolving motion, causing the blade to slide back into the scabbard while bringing the bottom tip of the scabbard to strike upwards beneath Trei's right arm. Though not in a forceful manner, it would be, however, enough to divert the arm's course towards his throat.
Snow in the meantime will use his toes to push his body back a step, using that to gain distance, while preparing for an attack in which he'll unleash.
And this is where it will get interesting for Trei. For when the scabbard comes into contact with Trei's right arm, what will meet against the arm isn't the scabbard completely - for a sudden blast of ice will ricochete out of the scabbards base, freezing the arm into position and locking the Talons in place. Especially useful against things that are composed of liquid, it took weeks for Snow to find an answer for an effective attack against people like himself --
Limit the opponent, and attack before being attacked. Unlike the traditional "assault the enemy's vital areas and limit their mobility" concept, if Snow can deliver a damage that will use the enemy's body to their disadvantage...
This attack is one of the effective methods to prove that concept.
Using the liquid form of blood inside a person's body as a catalyst, when the ice comes into contact that has moisture in it, it collects and condenses the liquid to a solidified form, causing the affected region to expand and rupture - if the affected place is part of the body. Rupturing the inside blood vessels and circulation, rather than delivering a heavy blow physically, it would create an internal damage that would build up over a period of time - ranging from two to three posts before the affected region gets worst - in symptoms similar to frostbite, stiffening of the body and finally cellular damage that would spread the symptom around the region like an infection.
In this case, Snow has given the attempt to neutralize the right arm in a test - to see what those interweb of cracks really are. And yet, since his scabbard is now held parallel to the ground, facing in front of his body, Snow can quickly unsheath his blade to deliver a Nitoryuu style assault -- a Two bladed attack.
But no.
If all works out correctly, Snow will not use that stance, since the previous attack failed to harm Trei effectively. The strike to the temple didn't seem to have any damage whatsover - other than the bleeding on the enemy's head - but with Trei looking unphased...
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Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 6:46 pm
Even as Snow performs one counterattack, Trei begins his next offensive...
You see, by removing his blade from Trei's left palm, Snow has uncovered the newly born web of fissures in his opponent's palm. From this aperture, six piercing tendrils of blood lash forth, silent and without warning, their needle points hurtling silently towards vital spots on the ice-user's body. One for the heart, one for each lung, one for the stomach, one for the lower abomen/bladder, and one for the liver. These deadly "flechettes," all about the width of a pencil, hurtle from Trei's hand at the same speed as one might see in a fastball, and should they pierce Snow's flesh, they will not only damage the organic tissues, but also introduce a new DNA stream to Snow's body, which will cause the fighter to feel ill over time as his body struggles to fight off the newly introduced material.
As to the other arm: fractures begin to form across the blood elemental's skin as his external temperature drops, and below its surface, blood cells start to die. True, he can't feel with lack of nerves; but as a person who's strength is born from blood, he can sure as hell notice when something's going wrong on that front. Thankfully, the primal instincts of Trei's Dark Psyche, his Id, take over; rather than lose the whole arm or more to a deadly "virus," the blood elemental forces the blood at the base of his elbow to clot up, solidifying so that the expanding ice will meet with a solid substance, halting its spread. Unfortunately, he's screwed in terms of his right forearm; an ominous cracking sound fills the air, and the forearm doesn't even twitch...
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Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2007 9:40 am
As expected; The web of cracks on the opponent's body isn't just for show. But even to Snow's mind which is on high alert, he had taken the appropriate distance to introduce a new factor into his schemes.
As the nearly invisible darts of blood lashed forth, multiple piercing sounds echoed in front of Snow's body as the tendrils came into contact not with his body -- But with a solid barrier of ice which formed two feet away from his own position. Having condensed the water onto his own skin, Snow can, arguably, release the moisture and condense it on the spot to act as an exoskeletal armor - that would have the visual appearance of a shattered large sphere - in case something tries to attack him without warning. Once used against Raine and effective against her acidic darkness, Snow usually leaves it up in a dormant state to conserve his energy - only activating when forced to do so.
And that, as Snow saw the ice cracking in front of his view all of a sudden, revealed to him Trei's arsenal in weaponry and tactics.
Projectiles. That's what the fissure of cracks on his arms meant. He's the type of opponent who would use their own blood as a method to attack and strike the enemy before they realize it. There were some instances which the blood might possibly be infectious - similar to his delay symptoms, but...
Unsheathing his blade now, Snow dashed towards Trei's right in an arc just as the icy barrier in front of Trei's view shattered to pieces - shards of ice in its solidified form flying right towards Trei's body like a nail bomb. Knowing full well that the tendrils of blood might be able to hit him regardless, Snow kept his own defensive barrier at a readied activation so that it would activate immediately once the tendrils penetrated the condensed moisture following Snow's wake - one of the reason why it activated by itself quickly in the first place.
The blade in the meantime then gave a lurching slash towards Trei's right shoulder, intent to sever and slice the limb off of Trei's body.
But what happens if more blood spurts out of Trei's body? Snow could care less in the meantime, performing the slash while he ran past Trei - partially in an effort to counter, as well as get some distance between the two fighters immedately after the slash.
By then, Snow'll have to use more of his assault pattern to deliver a blow against such an opponent --
The blade will have to be raised again to the air....damn.
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Posted: Mon Apr 16, 2007 11:24 pm
The shards of ice fly forth and embed themselves in Trei's skin, each entry wound becoming the origin for a new set of fractures, a new possibility for counterattack.
However, Trei doesn't rely on such tentacular tactics just yet; rather, he simply swivels to the left and swings his frozen right arm down, the blade whistling through the air in front of him as his path becomes perpendicular to that of his opponent, so that his "club" might be able to bear down onto the already battered back of his opponent's head.
No word, no sound... Through this fight, Trei is struggling to find release, or even a temporary reprieve, from the hell that has been haunting his mind.
There are two options: Bloody victory, or benevolent death.
Either way, Trei's "id" is calling the shots now, its visceral instincts driving him to unorthodox methods of attack/counterattack... and with many tricks still available to both sides of Trei's psyche, its fair to say that the brawl has only just begun...
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